


Never Again

by artfulinanities



Series: Just Some Tumblr Things... [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, M/M, Oral Sex, Sherlock was a bit not good, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6720913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artfulinanities/pseuds/artfulinanities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lift.” John taps his thigh, grabbing his leg behind the knee to ease it off of the counter as he wraps the gash with gauze. Satisfied, he leans back and takes a deep breath. “What the /hell/ were you thinking?”</p>
<p>“I miscalculated the height of the fence in relation to the skip and -”</p>
<p>“No. No, I’m done with your explanations. Stop leaving me behind and getting yourself hurt.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> I was shooting for smutty penis Friday things, but it got a little angsty. Whoops...

John curses under his breath, tugging at Sherlock’s arm slung over his shoulder. Sherlock winces as the movement jostles his ribs, limping up the last few stairs with John’s help. They stumble into the kitchen, John propping Sherlock against one wall as he clears the counter of debris and half finished mugs of tea from this morning’s abandoned breakfast. He rummages under the sink for his kit, pulling out alcohol swabs and wiping down the newly cleared surface. Sniffing sharply, he glares at Sherlock, pointing to the counter. “Sit.”

Sherlock swallows, face pale, but limps over and hauls himself up. John attacks the fastening of his trousers with steady hands, easing the fabric down over the gash on his inner thigh, leaving Sherlock in his coat, suit jacket, shirt, and tight black briefs.

“Coat and suit jacket off, too.” John fumbles for gloves in his kit, jaw clenched. He snaps them on quickly, swabbing the cut and studying it carefully. “You won’t need stitches. Just some butterfly bandages and a jab.” Sherlock nods, shrugging out of his suit jacket with a grimace as John patches up his leg. He dumps the fabric atop his coat and scarf on the floor, wincing when John’s hands skim the edge of the wound.

“Lift.” John taps his thigh, grabbing his leg behind the knee to ease it off of the counter as he wraps the gash with gauze. Satisfied, he leans back and takes a deep breath. “What the _hell_  were you thinking?”

“I miscalculated the height of the fence in relation to the skip and -”

“No. No, I’m done with your explanations. Stop leaving me behind and getting yourself hurt,” John snarls, ripping off the gloves and laying his hands on Sherlock’s pale thighs, thumbs stroking along the soft skin. Sherlock makes a choked sound, head falling back against the cabinets.

“John -”

“I can’t watch that happen again.” He gives Sherlock’s thighs a squeeze, hands sliding higher. Sherlock lets out a soft keening noise, cheeks flushing. “I can’t do that, Sherlock. _I can’t_.” John’s hands slide up and down Sherlock’s legs, feather light as he reassures himself that Sherlock is solid and real and alive.

“Oh God, John, stop.” Sherlock bites his fist, hips twitching as John’s thumbs brush over the border between the fabric of his pants and his heated skin. “I’m…and you’re not…Oh my God…”

“It’s fine. It’s all fine,” John murmurs, reaching up to tug at the band of Sherlock’s pants. “Lift.” Sherlock presses up on his palms, ignoring the protests of his ribs as John eases the pants down over the swell of his arse and his aching erection. The pants dangle from one foot as John lifts his good leg and kisses along the inside from ankle to thigh, nipping at the soft skin at the juncture of his hip. Sherlock bites his fist, stifling a moan, breath coming in harsh pants.

“Want you safe,” John murmurs, tongue darting out to lap at the bead of precome welling from Sherlock’s slit. Sherlock whines, hips canting forward, desperate. “Can’t lose you again.” John closes his lips around the head of Sherlock’s cock, tongue teasing, sucking just enough to make Sherlock gasp. He inches down, taking more and more into his mouth, Sherlock’s good leg thrown over his shoulder. Sherlock’s hands come to rest in his hair, tugging lightly as John starts bobbing up and down in earnest, free hand fondling Sherlock’s balls, thumb pressing against his perineum.

“Yes. God, _yes_ ,” Sherlock moans, hips thrusting lightly. John glances up at him through his lashes, tongue doing wicked things to Sherlock’s cock as he slips back up to lavish the head. Sherlock lets out an undignified noise halfway between a whine and a mewl, tugging on John’s hair. “Close.”

John takes him deeper, relaxing his jaw until his nose brushes the thatch of hair surrounding the base of his cock and hums. Sherlock’s vision goes white and he chokes, fingers locked on John’s skull. When he comes down, John’s head is resting against his belly, his shirt still buttoned, pants still hanging off of one foot.

“Please don’t leave me again,” John murmurs into his skin, hands on Sherlock’s hips.

Sherlock strokes one hand over John’s hair, breathing hard. “Never again, John. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Drop by and say hello on [my Tumblr](http://artfulinanities.tumblr.com/)


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